


Le Funambulisme

by MilkyMatcha



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Akaashi plays violin, Alternate Universe, Domestic violence I guess on Kenma's side, I really don't know where this is going, I'm just thinking of random things and putting them down here, KENMA IS AWESOME AT LASER TAG, Kenma is good at cooking, Kuroo also plays the French horn, M/M, No Plot/Plotless, Surprise surprise Kenma also plays piano, They attend an IB/AP (don't wanna choose) school, this is so random
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-12
Updated: 2016-06-12
Packaged: 2018-07-14 13:07:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7172981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MilkyMatcha/pseuds/MilkyMatcha
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There is no sudden spark of connection between them. They don't even talk to each other until Kenma's a junior and Kuroo's a senior. They may not be soulmates, but they'll make it work.</p><p>Wherein Kenma defies all expectations and Kuroo is desperate to know more.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Le Funambulisme

**Author's Note:**

> //Sweats nervously
> 
> Ok so this is my first work in the HQ fandom and I'm pretty sure that my writing is pretty shitty. I don't update regularly either. Apologies in advance.

Kenma was one of those people that slipped under the radar no matter how hard they tried. He’d work his ass off on a French project, only to have the credit go to his partner that’d done nothing. He’d volunteer to help the teachers with the grade 12’s graduation but the teacher in charge wouldn’t even know his name. He’d put in hours upon hours into the volleyball club but not even the coach knew who he was. It was the way of life for him. He went unnoticed while someone else that was prettier than him, had a better personality than him, talked smoother than him rose the ladder that was social status.

 

Kenma liked comforting himself with encouragement.

 

 _At least you’re honest_. That was his favourite one.

 

Or maybe, _you work harder than everyone else_. That one wasn’t as popular, although still comforting. Kenma had long stopped believing that hard work would be noticed.

 

Kenma knew that life could be beautiful and fulfilling, but he’d been cynical and negative every since he was in grade five. He was too lazy to change his habits now.

 

He pushed open the door to the locker room.

 

If he were to use one word to describe his life, he’d use the word grey. His life was grey, boring, bland, average, mediocre; so _normal_ that he was sick with the taste of it. The grey wasn’t even the kind of lighthearted cloud sort of grey, it was the thick, smothering greyness of smog, suffocating him from the inside out. Why couldn’t his life be a pretty grey?

 

“Hey, I heard that Nekoma is going to have a practice match with Fukurodani.”

 

Kenma’s heart jumped a bit at the mention of the school.

 

 _Akaashi_ , he thought.

 

For a moment, the grey went away, pierced by hmm…what colour should he use? Ahh, red, yes that was a good colour for Akaashi, Akaashi who’d been his closest friend, but still so far away from reaching Kenma in his grey fog.

 

“So? It’s not like we’ll be invited. Only the regulars get to do all that fun stuff.”

 

Kenma continued eavesdropping on the conversation, tying his shoes extra slowly.

 

“No, they’re inviting the whole team.”

 

Kenma tightened his left shoelace for the third time. Deciding that this was enough, he got up and went into the gym, slipping away unnoticed.

 

……………………………………………………….

 

Akaashi didn’t play volleyball when he and Kenma were in middle school. So Kenma was vaguely surprised (he should really be very surprised but the grey fog always seemed to stifle any intense emotion) when he learned that Akaashi was the official setter for Fukurodani. Kenma was looking forward to meeting Akaashi, preparing whole conversation topics for them to talk about, useless thoughts whirling around and around his head, undeterred by the grey fog. But now, as he looked on from his corner of Fukurodani’s gym, he knew that their worlds had grown dramatically apart.

 

As a hopeful freshman, Kenma had viewed Nekoma as a fresh start, leaving behind the bad taste that he came to associate with middle school. He’d left behind the reputation, the rumours; _everything_ that everyone knew about Kenma Kozume would be washed away once he entered high school. Nekoma was a chance to learn within an elite program and to start from scratch and ignore the fuck ups of earlier life.

 

He’d never anticipated that he’d never make friends though.

 

Kenma could feel the jealousy coursing through his veins, pumping fiery red, a different red than the one that Akaashi was associated with. It was a red that pulsed through the grey fog and momentarily cleared it away.

 

Kenma shook his head. It was wrong to be jealous of a friend.

 

Kenma’s amber eyes watched as Akaashi maneuvered the ball into the air, making it arc gracefully before being slammed down by Fukurodani’s captain.

 

 _Was his name Bokuto_? Kenma thought halfheartedly.

 

“ _Hey! Pudding head!_ ”

 

Kenma wondered how much gel Bokuto’s (he’d decided that indeed, Fukurodani’s captain was named Bokuto) hair had in it.

 

“ _Pudding head!_ ”

 

Kenma snickered to himself. Pudding head was such a stupid name.

 

“ _Pudding head_ ,” a voice said, uncomfortably close to his ear. Kenma started and turned around to glare at the source of the voice that was now laughing. That glare soon slid off his face and turned into a look of awe.

 

Holy shit. Kuroo Tetsurou was standing right behind him (even though he was quite sure that there was no space behind him since he was sitting in a corner of the gym).

 

“Yes?” Kenma asked steadily. All he had to do was play it cool and then Kuroo would leave him alone.

 

“You see that guy over there?” Kuroo asked while pointing to Akaashi. “He wants to play with you.”

 

Kenma blinked. Of course it was Akaashi. No one would ever seek out Kenma of their own volition.

 

“So that’s why you have to get onto the court,” Kuroo said before dragging Kenma over to where the regulars were playing.

 

The grey fog was gone now, replaced by fear and apprehension. Akaashi gave an easy smile to Kenma, who returned it with some difficulty. Kenma was acutely aware of how everyone was staring at him. It wasn’t just the regulars either, it seemed rather that the regulars were paying less attention to him and that it was the rest of the volleyball club that was staring at him, wondering who he was and patiently waiting for him to mess up.

 

His thoughts were swirling around him, cutting him off from the rest of the world, heart racing and mind spinning.

 

He didn’t see the ball coming towards his head. It was a quick smack, effectively knocking his head back and then rising up into the air. His eyes watered.

 

There were shouts of, “oh my god, are you okay?” and other mutters of, “wow, loser.” But everyone dispersed and Kenma got up like nothing happened. There were the concerned looks of those on court and the other admonishing looks of those off the court. Kenma touched the side of his head where the ball had hit.

 

“It’s nothing,” he said. He didn’t like being an inconvenience.

 

And so the game continued.

 

……………………………………………………………

 

Kenma liked crowds as long as there was no one he knew. As long as he followed the proper crowd etiquette, he was fine. No one would judge him. It was easier to blend in with the masses.

 

Kenma didn’t like intimate settings though. Confined places with a certain amount of people in them like restaurants or convenience stores. _But what_ , he asked himself, _am I doing here_?

 

He was in a yakiniku restaurant and he didn’t like one bit of it. Akaashi had somehow managed to talk him into going ( _Bokuto-san needs someone to babysit him, otherwise he eats the meat before it’s ready_ ) and the rest of the team decided to tag along.

 

Right now, he was uncomfortably squeezed against the side of the booth, trying to put as much distance as possible between himself and Kuroo. This was surreal; the Kenma from a month ago would’ve scoffed at the idea of eating out with the team. People on their level and people on Kenma’s level were not meant to mingle. Kenma quietly ate, the grey fog slowly settling back in like an obese dog trying to find a comfortable position to sit in. He’d just melt into the background. He’d never be one of those ‘main characters’ and he’d long stopped trying to be one too.

 

“Hey, you should totally become a regular,” Kuroo said. It was sudden and Kenma choked on his meat. There went the plan for melting into the background.

 

“Uh…thank you but I don’t think I’m good enough for that yet,” he said, hoping to sound humble.

 

“Nah man! You’re totally good enough! I’d look forward to playing you every day!” Bokuto shouted, head craning forward, spraying bits of meat everywhere in his excitement. Kuroo pushed Bokuto’s head out of the way with a noise that was somewhere between disgust and endearment.

 

“I’m not particularly good at anything…” Kenma trailed off.

 

“On the contrary,” Kuroo began, chopsticks clicking. “You’re exactly what the team needs.”

 

Kenma must’ve looked confused because Kuroo cleared his throat to elaborate.

 

“You know Karasuno?” he asked. Kenma nodded. “They’re the complete opposite of Nekoma, all quirky players with specialties. Nekoma you see,” Kuroo paused in favour of snatching a bit of meat away from Bokuto. “Needs stable players that are well-rounded.”

 

Kenma chewed on the thought a bit. It was an interesting idea to say the least, becoming a regular player. When he was younger he’d dreamed that someday, he’d be special, an individual that was different from every other face in the crowd. He was too jaded now to believe that but maybe…

 

“Well, it’s settled then! Regulars have practice in the mornings too, starting at 7:00!”

 

Kuroo must’ve taken his silence as an affirmative. Kenma sighed, pretending to be annoyed, but really, he was just a tiny bit pleased.

 

And Kuroo seemed to notice this too.


End file.
